


Writer's Block

by FoxRafer



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-10
Updated: 2011-04-10
Packaged: 2017-10-30 06:52:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxRafer/pseuds/FoxRafer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for <a href="http://griffndor.livejournal.com/"><b>griffndor</b></a> as part of her <a href="http://help-nz.livejournal.com/"><b>help_nz</b></a> auction win. AU where Eric is a writer and Karl is a caterer. And big thanks for <a href="http://afra-schatz.livejournal.com/"><b>afra_schatz</b></a> for helping me conquer some of my fears in writing this pairing for the first time.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Writer's Block

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [**griffndor**](http://griffndor.livejournal.com/) as part of her [**help_nz**](http://help-nz.livejournal.com/) auction win. AU where Eric is a writer and Karl is a caterer. And big thanks for [**afra_schatz**](http://afra-schatz.livejournal.com/) for helping me conquer some of my fears in writing this pairing for the first time.

Eric pushed back in his chair, squeezing the bridge of his nose. A gust of spring air rustled the papers on his desk, heightening already frayed nerves. He stared at the laptop screen trying to see something more than a jumble of random words. The deadline was a week away but nothing he wrote appealed to him. He was too new at this freelance business to risk being seen as unreliable but all he wanted to do was push this article far from his mind and go out to the garage and work on his car. He'd been rebuilding it for months and there were few things in this world he loved more.

As if on cue, Karl's tuneless whistle drifted down the hall just before the one thing Eric loved most stepped into the doorway. Karl's hair looked uncombed, sticking out in odd tufts Eric longed to thread his fingers through. He wore an old Foreigner t-shirt and torn jeans, the shredded cuffs pooling around bare feet.

"Do you want raspberry or chocolate?"

"What?"

"Donuts."

"You're making donuts?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"New recipe and you're my favorite guinea pig. So raspberry or chocolate?"

"Surprise me."

Karl cocked an eyebrow then backed out of the room twirling an imaginary moustache. "Famous last words, my friend."

Eric pulled his eyes away from the empty doorway to try and refocus on his work. Even on days like today he knew they had made the right decision. Their previous jobs had filled their bank accounts but the corporate culture had been ill-fitting at best. Working for themselves had been a relief and while Eric had yet to finish his book and struggled to make a name for himself as a freelancer, Karl's catering business had flourished due in no small part to the masterful confections he could create from those talented hands. Hands Eric loved thinking about, imagining all of their decadent skills.

He cleared his throat and turned back to the computer, tried to push the text on the screen into something less clunky and disjointed. He sifted through his notes, typed a few more uninspired sentences, yanked at his hair.

"You still have the transcription of your interview?"

Eric almost jumped, surprised at Karl's reappearance. "Yeah. Why?"

Karl leaned over him and began shifting papers around until two strong hands grabbed his wrists to stop him making a mess of the disorganized system. He slumped down, draping himself across Eric's back and wrapped his arms around Eric's neck and shoulders. Eric closed his eyes and relaxed into the embrace, sinking into the heat from Karl's body.

"Let me read it to you; reenact it, sort of. In our old life when someone on my staff was stuck sometimes walking through their prep and all the background info helped. I thought maybe I could help you in the same way."

"Or be a complete distraction."

"No, it'll work." Karl gently knocked their heads together then stood up slightly, still leaning on Eric's shoulders. "Get all your notes together; I'll go get us a couple of beers."

"What about the donuts?"

"What donuts?"

As Karl turned to walk away, Eric grabbed his hand and squeezed. "Thanks."

Karl lifted their joined hands and placed a soft kiss on Eric's knuckles before continuing out of the room. "No worries. Besides, the last thing I want is a grumpy gus being my taste tester."

And when he heard a real laugh from Eric, not forced or strained but deep, rich and melodic, Karl smiled. He snagged the beer and a couple bags of chips and headed back into the living room.


End file.
